


Captain Hook

by local_cannibal



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Choking, Creampie, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Ghost Sex, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Name-Calling, No Lube, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29165862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/local_cannibal/pseuds/local_cannibal
Summary: V and Johnny get stuck in a feedback loop.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Male V
Kudos: 37





	Captain Hook

**Author's Note:**

> Trans masu V doesn't have dysmorphia, Johnny is in character a dick, and the word cunt gets thrown around.

V had wanted to put their first encounter out of his mind. Mr. Silverhand was a royal asshole and they both knew it for fact. It almost seemed surreal now considering the same obstinate prick that told him to eat a bullet was bent over him, synch arm biting into the back of his neck and grunt fucking his fat ghost cock into his hole. Just a week ago both of them would have barked at the thought let alone consider it was even an option. Their first meeting had laid the roadwork that they could indeed interact with one another, even if V couldn’t touch Johnny in any way that really _mattered_.

Johnny had his hooks in their shared software and maybe that’s what this was, a unforeseen software glitch of the relic. V had very little choice but to bite down on the back of his jaw and measure his breaths while Johnny worked his cock in and out, ghost or not his stroke was immaculate. 

“Christ, Johnny.” Lips pucker as he blows out a hot puff of air, face scrunched in an almost painful scowl before he turns towards the wall and hisses. V had all but given up trying to reach between his thighs and milk the engorged shape of his cock for his own release and it didn’t seem all that high on Johnny’s list of things to give half a shit about.

“Pipe down.” Metal fingers clench around the column of V’s throat again, pleased only when he feels the slick walls of his cunt clench and _flutter_ in something like protest to the rough treatment. 

They both knew better.

Johnny had seen more than a few memories of V dishing out nasty amounts of eddies for a professional dom. Of all the corpo-pigs he had the misfortune of getting stuck in it had to be a masochist that paid to play. Hips snap a little harder, Johnny feeding the greedy clutch of his hole like he deserves it, deserves to be debased and used, like he’s not some fucking ghost and this won’t be his meat sack in a few weeks. V’s the only one he can blame now. V and the pigs he used to work for did this to him, did this to both of them.

V's not sure what he hates more, how Johnny holds him down and makes him take it or how much he's missed having someone do it. Jackie was a sweet lay, considerate and easy to laugh with but this itch finally getting scratched was food for his soul. 

He hadn't seen the famous Silverhand cock for himself. Johnny had caught him fresh out the shower DB headset in hand and ready to relax. This monk had turned him on to new dances, guided meditation and of course V thought it was bullshit at first but turning off his mind,  _ their _ mind was a luxury these days. Johnny had been on edge most of the day, even almost  _ asked  _ V for a smoke. Like usual he had appeared all too comfortable to stretch out across V's bed. Arms crossed and sucking his teeth he just had to speak his mind. 

"Shits not going to help you know that." It's bait, clear as day. Johnny looked to argue when his demands weren't met, something to pass the time when other vices weren't available. "You looking for inner peace all of the sudden V? Thought you liked finding that with joy-toys in yer cunt?"

V, to his credit just chuckles and dismisses the DB selection menu from his optics. "Mad now Johnny cause you don't have anymore fans lining up to suck your dick?" V smirks and brings up the BD menu again. His feed scrambles in half a breath, Johnny standing over him now, pushing his sunglasses up to sit on the top of his head. 

"Difference is I didn't have to pay."

V didn't even glance up when he shrugged and maybe that's what set them down this path. Johnny's clearly been practicing his reach, his control has gotten better since that night and it seems like nothing to force V to roll over on his belly. 

Having your body tossed around by some long dead punk was as disorienting as one would suspect. Optics blown wide with shock blink around the wall before darting back. "What the hell are you doing Johnny 'm not in the mood for your shit." V moves to push himself up only to be met with the solid curl of silver fingers. The sensation has his senses on edge, there was no way this was real, Johnny was in his head! The warm bite of metal and heavy weight settling on the backs of his thighs said otherwise. "What the fuck is this?" V tries to move again and the almost unsure fingers on his nape snap forward and push his face into a pillow.

"Didn't think I'd have this much sway so soon huh?" He snorts. "Surprised me too." 

"Alright, alright damn you've proved your point, now get off." V relaxes his clenched hands and moves them to either side of his head in a peace offering. They're unfortunately on the same team and V just wants to relax.

Johnny's already decided peace wasn't an option. He's gotten a taste of something and with a lack of anything else better to do decides to entertain himself. "Nope don't suppose I will, gotta see just how far we can take this little encounter. Nets never been this synced up before, you can feel it too right?" As if to prove his point Johnny bears his hips down; let's the meaty shape of his half hard cock press between V's buttcheeks. He wasn't a stranger to bedding men, had a strong preference for female fans but when he'd pissed off all the gals in his circle a warm hole was a warm hole. V just had the bonus of a familiar one.

"Whoa, whoa what the hell do you think you're doing?" V's shocked into place, head straining to turn back and catch a glimpse at Johnny.

"Just give it a second, sure you'll figure it out." Flesh hand gives V's boxers a good yank followed by the familiar motion of belt latch being undone and the melodic slide of his zipper.

He was really serious about this, 'bout trying to fuck him?! V's got half a mind to let Johnny keep this up only to disappoint himself when he can't rise to the occasion but rising doesn't seem to be the problem. V knows the heavy wet sensation of a cock sitting pretty on his ass, and can feel the warm slide of pre ooze out the damp tip in vivid detail. He can feel the curious thrusting start as Johnny waste little time kneeing his way between the netrunners thighs. It all feels very real but he's still waiting for the other shoe to fall and Johnny to fizzle out in a flash of error messages from the chip. 

It never comes.

Johnny's been talking up his cock seemingly from the moment they've met. He's been peacocking, flaunting some holy grail of dick and V was content to let the old man blow smoke up his ass. It seems all of it was well earned because Silverhand somehow has the right amount of length and girth in equal measure. The bastards even got a little bit of hook that uppercuts the air right out of V's nose when he thrust in. Sure V would have loved the courtesy of a little reach around or Johnny to have enough manners to spit before he bore down and  _ made _ the spongy tip of his cock fit. Pain laced through V’s optics like split fibers before he squeezed them shut and craned his hips down for a moment of reprieve. Johnny chases after the warm clutch like a man on a mission and kicks his legs wider for more leverage. 

“Shit, shit Johnny h-hold on.” Static licks at his vocals, pain curling up warm and familiar in the pit of V’s belly and like an old friend come home he’s hard, body already deciding it was going to participate. Hand unfurls from a tangle of sheets and b-lines for his throbbing cock. V chooses to ignore the satisfied chuckle that bounces around in his mind; it’s really all the permission Johnny needs to snap his hips and bottom out. Another burst of pain blossoms across V’s synth net raw and sharp. He's thankful for the old midnight lady soft that kicks on; Johnny's thrust catching less and less. V moans high in his throat, each rolling thrust just perfect. In and out Johnny's pace fast enough to build a pleasant charge but deep enough V couldn't find a thing to complain about. So he simply chooses to hold on and listen to the wet slap of balls to his hole. 

"Finally found something to shut you up." Johnny bites out around a breathy laugh. Likes the picture V cuts half choked out and straining around his cock. It brings back fond memories of even fonder lovers.

One vice is better than none.

They fall into an expert rhythm, Johnny now and then changing his stroke to earn a surprised groan. He's far from wanting to admit the pig's a pretty good lay. Meets almost each thrust with his own push back, cunt greedy and clenching when he goes to pull back like he can't bear the half second of being empty. V whines through his nose, the thin sliver of his optic that he can see is rolled back. Focused on catching, milking his cock for all it's worth and its working. 

It's only when V's hub starts beeping in warning do either of them realize it's been much longer than they thought. V's thighs are shaking and he's given up on fondling his own cock for release. Thinks somehow it's Johnny's cock that keeps him right on the edge. If he'd just go faster they could both cross the finish line. However, Johnny's already snapping his hips like he's angry or too lost in the wet slap of their parts.

The beeping grows louder and again V shuts the warning messages away only for it to pop up again and again. 

“Shut that shit off.” Johnny snaps. “I’m trying to work back here.”

And of course it’s V’s fault his body’s overheating, demanding he stops whatever it is he’s doing and cool off or fry his sensitive chrome. Lord knows Johnny wouldn’t think to stop stirring his cock up or ease off his neck so he could take a proper breath. When the warning pops up again V chooses to shut off his ears instead, won’t let Johnny’s nagging break his focus. All the trouble earns him a deep laugh rattling around his skull and hand pushing at his sweaty face. “You can’t shut me up V--”

V swings back, pushes off the bed with one hand and drives his elbow into the smirking lips of his insufferable passenger. Meets nothing but air as his elbow arches and twists him around to his back and Johnny’s appears again. Still smiling, still laughing down at him. 

“I’m in here, remember.” Warm, silver finger presses at the crown of the other’s forehead. Presses down like if he does it hard enough a hole will appear and break this contract they have. He sucks his teeth and slides on down the other’s face, thumb idly tracing the chrome under his eyes as he goes. It’s gentle, almost caring as he cups his cheek, Johnny’s black eyes distant for only a moment before his hand is closing around V’s throat again. “Can’t get rid of me that easy either.” He doesn't slide back in just yet, rubs their wet cocks pass one another just so V has something to watch, something to chase.

The static that's built between them is like nothing eithers felt before. The heat and need is almost palpable somehow, each shallow breath Johnny allows him to have adds to the dizzy haze their minds have melted to.

"Fuck!" V chases after the friction with hips churning in tight little circles. Thinks he could cum just from this if only someone wasn't a huge prick. Johnny's moved his cock away, flesh hand holding it steady as the wet tip teases V's hole.

V's never been shy about what he wants, what he needs and thrusted his hips up. An impatient offer Johnny doesn't think twice about before he slams home. The new angles better than the last, V's bobbing his hips up in a mad dash the warnings be damned. Faintly he can hear Johnny curse in the sea of heat that's his mind. Can make out words that want to be his name but some part of the singer isn't quite ready to belt it out. Doesn't stop V from groaning out his name, vocals shot to hell. 

Johnny groans and finally his hips stop and sputter with a hand full of jerks. Fucks his hard earned spend into the vice of the man's cunt. He lets out a deep, satisfied sigh before he fizzles out and at long last V is allowed a deep breath. Spotty vision clears and without Johnny's support his hips drop to the mattress with a quiet thud.

The sheets are soaked clean through, his mouth dry and throat horse. Static fills each of his limbs in a pleasant buzz, the tingle bone deep as orgasm chains through his net. Can still feel the satisfying ooze of Johnny's cum jitter and erupt before it vanishes in another ripple of endorphins. V's in a daze, optics turned down low as the loop continues, its strength lessening moment after moment. 

~

It’s morning and the soft ringing of comms stirs V from his stupor with a jolt and groan. It’s Panam and it’s only on reflex that he answers with a groggy “Hello.”

“V, what the hell are you still in bed? Dude … we’ve got a job across town in twenty minutes.”

“Hmm?” That couldn’t be right … V squints, glances around his apartment and groans louder. “Shit my bad I’ll be ready in five.”

  
  
“Sure whatever I’ll swing by and pick you up.” She cuts the call and V is left with the maelstrom that’s their shared memories. He aches clear down to his core , half thinks to call Panam back and tell her he’d rather not go out. Throat and thighs burn with the tell-tale throb of bruises, his hole puffy and raw. Fingers curl down around his still damp thighs and he hisses nearing the mound of his cock. Decides to take it slow even with Panam three minutes away now and queues up an update for Midnight Lady.

With a groan he’s finally put himself together enough to exit the apartment, a slight limp to his usual easy stride. V hears the quiet flick of a lighter before he sees him. Johnny’s leaning against the concrete guard that overlooks the stairs in front of his apartment. His glasses pulled down over his eyes as V rounds the corner and heads down the stairs. 

V’s sure their eyes meet and he’s almost certain he can see the faintest smirk behind the hand holding his cigarette. 


End file.
